


Fault

by judelaw



Category: The Young Pope (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judelaw/pseuds/judelaw
Summary: “You weren't to blame.”“Oh, yes I was.”





	

He was so tired.  
  
So incredibly tired.

This feeling wasn't unfamiliar, the night never consoled him, at least not since he can remember, but this weariness lay even more heavily upon him than usual. He tried to get some fresh air, to exercise, yet nothing seemed to cure this exhausting feeling. This pain. And the little sleep he got certainly didn't help either.  
  
He tried to get some rest in the gardens of his summer residence, thought a change would help. Any change.  
And even if it wouldn't help him, it hopefully would help Sister Mary.   
  
But ever since they arrived, she didn't leave her room. She stayed inside, crying possibly, most likely. And Lenny wondered how she did it.  
  
His tiredness was exhausting, it made him restless.   
  
And dull. He felt like he was unable to feel anything at all, while being hypersensitive to every little thing.  
  
After walking around for some time, he decided to lie down next to the pool, trying to shift his focus on his surroundings. The gardens were so beautiful, the sky so bright and blue and the sun was shining down warmly. Everything was quiet except for the occasional songs the birds would sing. Everything was so peaceful. So painfully peaceful.

He decided to make a good use of his restless thoughts, think about how to save the church, where he went wrong. But his mind wouldn't focus.  
All he could think about was Andrew.

Lenny has always been jealous of him, since his first day at the orphanage, when Sister Mary introduced them to one another.   
  
He called her Ma.   
  
Lenny was never allowed to do that. Not on that day and not during the countless days afterwards.

He was jealous. _He always would be jealous._

He never understood why Sister Mary and Andrew had a bond he would never have with her, always wondered what was wrong with him. What he did wrong.   
Lenny tried so hard to reach that level of acceptance, of love, Andrew had. But he never did.

Why wasn’t he allowed to call her Ma?

And why was Andrew?  
  
Countless days and nights he must have spent thinking about this. Figuring out what was so special about Andrew. Which quality was he lacking that Andrew had? It must be so painfully obvious to the world, considering Sister Mary saw it immediately - so why couldn't he?

He mused about asking Andrew, he really wanted to. But he was too afraid of the answer. Of lacking a quality he could never possess. Making it impossible for him to get the accepted he craved so badly.

He has always been jealous.

Time and time again he imagined what it would be like if Andrew didn't exist. Would he be closer to Sister Mary if Andrew wasn't there? Would he finally be able to get all the love Andrew was receiving? Would it finally be targeted towards him? Would his life be in any way better than it is?

Now he didn't have to wonder anymore.

Andrews was dead. Because of him.

He has always been jealous of Andrew.   
  
But he also loved him.

During all those years at the orphanage, he has been his best friend. His only friend. They ran away together once, they spend the days and nights together, playing games, reading stories, dreaming about what will be and could have been, snuck out to smoke cigarettes together when they got older.

They did lose track of one another when they got older, and in a way Lenny didn’t mind. He didn’t have time for friends anyway.   
But every time he went outside to smoke a cigarette, he missed him.

He never stopped loving him. And he never would.

Things didn't got better between him and Sister Mary and he wondered why he'd ever think they would, if Andrew wasn't there. He wasn't Andrew and could never be him. Sister Mary would never be able to love him like he loved - _loves_ \- Andrew.  
And he understood. He probably wouldn't either.

It was his fault. Everything was his fault.

Andrew’s death was his fault.

Sister Mary crying was his fault.  
  
All the pain he caused others was his fault.

The church losing more and more faithful followers was his fault.

He slowly understood why everyone he ever cared about in his life leaves him in one way or another.   
It was all his fault.

He was so tired.  
  
He repeatedly closed his eyes, trying to relax, to get some rest at least if he already couldn't sleep, but everything around him seemed to keep him awake. The sound of the water slowly moving due to the breeze, the bird's singing, the faint noises from the people working inside the house. The crying.  
  
Everything was so loud and painful.  
  
Slowly and carefully he got up.   
  
He felt like he aged a lot during the past months, especially days. His body felt so heavy and also resisting his movements. He undressed but getting freed from the weight of his papal clothing didn't help either.  
  
He slowly walked into the water, diving under.   
  
Everything was so quiet here. And so peaceful.


End file.
